Within A Dream
by Clopin K. Trouillefou
Summary: Demona thinks she finally has the ideal mate when she resurrects a brilliant poet as a gargoyle, but nothing quite goes as planned. The pieces of a plan may fall into place, but the plan itself begins to unravel. Rated for future scenes.
1. Prologue

She watched him through the rain pouring down, the chill unseasonable for this region in early October, clearly in great discomfort as he struggled in worn clothing that was quickly becoming soaked. She sat huddled under the eaves of a building, protected from most of the rain, the chill hardly seeming to bother her, a grin gracing her features. Her quarry was a man of ill-deserved repute, but great intelligence and grim determination, though the last two years had been hard since his chosen mate had passed. She'd seen him before, had even to some extent followed his tracks as he'd journeyed up the coast struggling to find his way in a world that didn't seem to want him. How like the human race to spit upon even their own when differences such as superior intellect set them apart, and Goliath had thought they could share this world with such petty worms. How could they accept her race when they couldn't even accept each other? Intelligence such as the human she silently observed should be praised and worshipped, instead it was trod into the ground and left to rot with nothing. He'd long ago piqued her curiosity, caught her attention, his own struggles echoed her own so that though he was only human they seemed kindred spirits, each struggling to survive and persevere in a cold, hateful world. Previously, she'd never have dared approach him, not when he was so clearly devoted to his mate, as caring and attentive to the fragile little female as Goliath had once been to her. But now, she was no longer an obstacle, perhaps he could be drawn away from the humans he fought to prove himself to, drawn to her side.

Where she'd once been Goliath's Angel of Night perhaps she could be to this human who was so at odds with his own race, descending to lead him from his miserable existence. He was certainly no warrior, though he was physically capable of defending himself and quite fit for a middle-aged human, but after so many centuries alone, she had no need of a protector, simply a desire to fill the void the loss of her clan had left. She wanted to rebuild her clan and, his race aside, the human before her had possibilities with such intelligence and physical pursuits. Just as she prepared herself to move in, her quarry vanished from her sight, she could easily relocate him if she could only get his scent, but it was too risky, some human might see her. She searched the vicinity frantically, but it wasn't until a day later that she caught sight of him, lying in a gutter in clothing he hadn't been wearing the previous night. She was about to take her chances and tend to him when another human came along and helped him to a nearby tavern, so she sat and waited for something, an opportunity to slip and see for herself or some sign that he lived. Other humans came, one bearing some resemblance to the human she'd been watching, a carriage came and he was taken away to a hospital. Much as she hated humans, even she knew that if he were truly so ill they could help him more than she could, they could save his life if he was fatally ill. So for three days, she sat and watched, peering in through the windows of his hospital room, keeping to the shadows where she could see and remain unseen by the humans. It was not easy, the severity of his illness was great, he was manic and wild one day, flailing so much it took several nurses to keep him down, quietly drifting in and out of consciousness the next, then on the third day, in the wee hours of morning, he was gone. His death only deepened her dislike of the humans, she'd heard some of their words, heard them say he was probably drunk, leaving doubt to their treatment of his ailment. They acted under the assumption that he'd simply indulged to much, rather than conducting a thorough examination, so far as she was concerned, they might have prevented his demise if they hadn't merely assumed him drunk. Burning with rage at a death of one of their own that might have been prevented, she unfolded her violet wings and glided off into the night, fleeing the city before the Hunter could find her. She'd tarried too long here, indulged her curiosity with some insignificant human long enough, it was time to move on and forget him before her nemesis discovered her whereabouts.


	2. Awakening

Talons clicked against the concrete walk, a quiet swish as wings wrapped themselves around her shoulders, a smug grin on her red lips as glowing crimson orbs focused on the monument before her. More than 150 years had passed since she'd last come to this city and in that time she'd never forgotten him much as she'd tried, in that time she'd obtained the technology and the science for this. She'd learned much from Sevarius about cloning, perfected his techniques and through research conducted at the company run by her human alter ego determined the cause of the illness that had struck the clones and how to cure it. The time had come to claim the prey she had long ago set her sights on, even better, she now had a way to make him one of her own so his race would be no conflict for her. If she could only get a sample of his genetic code, that was the only hitch in her plan, she'd already plundered a museum that had a small case containing a lock of his hair, but because it had been clipped it was useless for her purposes. She'd hoped to avoid having to dig up his remains, the theft was easy enough to hide, but unearthing the corpse of a celebrated poet from a cemetery that was frequented by so many would not be. There was no choice, the chances that anything that might yield DNA were slim to almost none, but it would be worth it if she could only get a sample. Any who stood guard in the area at night were already "taken care of" so she would not be immediately interrupted, but she had to get to work quickly before anyone else is tipped off, she'd rather not risk spilling blood as well as desecrating a grave. So, she went to work, unearthing the remains, picking up and tenderly holding the skull once he reached the skeleton that was surprisingly intact. But she knew two others were buried under this plot, so she made a quick examination of the bones to ascertain that they were indeed male.

Grabbing a duffel bag she'd brought with her, she carefully wrapped the bones in plastic and cloth before carefully stowing them inside the bag. Her task complete, she scaled the wall of the church beside the historic cemetery before gliding off when she'd gotten high enough and returned to the hotel where she was staying. Morning came, a shapely red-head with eyes like emeralds got off the elevators, eyes following her as she approached the front desk and checked out before making her way outside to a her red BMW and making the drive back to New York. She waited until dark, when the building would be empty, before making her way to a private lab she kept that she alone had access to and delicately laid out the bones on a slab. She worked most of the night trying to coax out even the smallest bit of genetic information from the degraded bones, but by some miracle she had it, incomplete sequence that it was, but the gaps were easily filled in with the gargoyle DNA she had. She let out a small chuckle for there was little more satisfying than all the pieces of a plan coming together. The incomplete sequence worked to her advantage for she'd had every intention of splicing the human with the gargoyle genes and now she need not worry about what to remove or what to add. She had no hidden agenda as she had with Goliath or Thailog, this was only about creating a loving, loyal mate she could rebuild a clan with nor would there be any need for the programming she and Thailog had used on the clones. The only matter to resolve was to preserve the person he'd once been, but she'd already found a solution to that for long ago she'd come across a spell to summon a deceased spirit and bind it to a living body. She had all she needed, all there was left was to be patient and wait until the physical form was ready for the soul meant for it.

Months passed, the time the process took similar to what it took for Thailog and the other clones, the same processes applied for the body to mature to adulthood and the muscles to develop normally. The spell to summon the soul and bind it to this new body was successful. She tenderly caressed the cylindrical glass containment, a soft greenish glow cast over her dusky blue skin, as she gazed fondly at the now-adult male within, a mask over his face delivering oxygen to his body lest he drown in the fluids he was immersed in. It was almost time to remove him from the growth tank, her heart racing in anticipation as she scanned his vital signs, more out of boredom than true necessity. How strange that even with a new body, his heart rate was still irregular, ten regular beats before it intermitted, something that had been detected long ago during an illness that afflicted him after his mate passed. With a last glance, she turned to take her leave for the remainder of the night. By her calculations, it would be approximately another two days before it was time, a smile still gracing her red lips as she pondered over the unique specimen he made. His coloration and design was so different from her clan or any other gargoyles she'd seen before.

The steady, rhythmic beat of a heart in his ears, drowning out the sounds of a muffled beeping, accompanied the sounds of bubbles around him. Such peace underwater, it was so quiet and serene, he'd always loved being in the water. But wait, it made no sense for the dead could not hear such things, the dead had no heartbeat pounding in their ears. Nor was there any feeling of warmth, the dead in fact felt nothing, but he had the distinct sensation of being underwater yet there was no soothing motion of tides. Slowly but surely, his eyelids lifted and for the first time in more than 150 years, he woke and could again see, but how? His time in the mortal world had mercifully ended and he'd finally known peace, had been reunited with his loved ones, and though his spirit was not fully at rest, he was at least at peace. He looked around, his ever rational mind struggling for answers, but everything was clouded due to the liquid he was immersed in. Instinctively, his hands sought a way to the surface but touched only cold glass, fingers curling into fists as panic began setting in and he began pounding on it. Thus far only the edges of panic existed, but the glass barely seemed to make a sound as he banged on it and that panic grew, his fingers uncurling and clawing at it.

For a brief moment, the sight of those four claws where five rounded human fingers should've been banished the initial panic, his eyes darting from them to the glass and the claw marks they'd left and his mind began thinking clearly, planning. The claws were sharp enough to cut into the thick surface, weaken it and one well-aimed strike with enough force would shatter it and he would be free. One swipe from left to right, another from right to left to form an 'X' and a few forceful punches succeeded in shattering the glass. The liquid burst free, pulling him with it as it spilled onto the floor, he rose to his hands and knees as he lifted a hand to tear the strange contraption that had allowed him to breathe from his face. For the first time since that fateful October night that was now a lifetime ago, he took a deep breath of fresh air, marveling at how his lungs expanded and contracted as he exhaled. He was truly alive again. He looked from the plastic mask in his hand to the ceiling of the tank, the plastic tubing having been torn once the water had rushed free. Cautiously, he rose to his feet, gazing in awe at the machines all around him, slowly taking one step after another, a hand rising to sweep the wet curls back from his brow as he examined the monitors on the base of the containment he'd been in.

Then his eyes swept behind him to a window of thick glass, almost seemed to be a mirror of some kind, and caught sight of his reflection. He walked closer, putting his hand to it, as the shocked grey eyes of his reflection gazed back from a face that was white as bone and framed by large, pointed ears. His hand and the rest of him was just as white, his hair at the moment was more black than the dark brown he recalled, his eyes currently grey. They seemed to shift colors now and then, some remembered them as hazel, others once swore they were violet, but he'd always known them to usually be grey. Eyes noted for picking up the smallest details caught sight of the black feathers at his back seeming to shift slightly as he moved. An experimental flick and they opened into a pair of wings even as he felt a strange sort of pressure from the base of his spine and turned to see a long tail ending in a tuft of black feathers. His feet were no longer flat to the ground with five toes as human feet should ending in three large toes tipped with sharp black talons, the balls of his feet bearing the weight of his body as the heel rose sharply into another claw. Lord, what had he become? What sort of demon was he?

A silent alarm went off in her office just as she was preparing to leave for the night: the alarm in her private lab had been tripped. Grabbing a laser gun, she hurriedly made her way down there, eyes glowing crimson with fury at the thought of someone breaking in and endangering her prize. She stepped into the elevator, pushing the appropriate button, wishing the damned thing moved faster. Unaware that an alarm had been tripped, he continued his explorations, coming upon a human skeleton on a gurney, but a glint of something drew his attention to a tray close by. He crept over, eyes widening in shock as he recognized the little jewel case he'd once given his childhood sweetheart still with the lock of his hair inside. A sound alerted him, a low almost-feline growl emanating from deeper in the room, he snatched up the jewel case and darted behind one of the tanks, cautiously peering around the base. She stepped inside the lab, gun in hand and ready, a low growl escaping her lips, mentally swearing to ensure the intruder suffered for this. Then she spotted the broken tank and calmed herself, surmising that the male had awakened prematurely and had managed to break free, and she put the weapon down. Something caught her eye, a shadow darting behind a control panel; sharp, discerning eyes studied this strange female creature before him with her wild red hair and dusky blue flesh.

A memory flashed to his mind of a dark rainy night, a shape darting into the shadows, the only discernible features being vibrant red hair and something blue. The same being perhaps?

"It's all right," she said softly, "You're safe. I'm here to help you."

No response, he'd caught sight of the contraption that was clearly a weapon she'd carried.

"Tell me," she went on, "Do you know who you are?"

"Of course," he answered, his voice hoarse, suddenly aware of the fangs in his mouth.

"Then tell me what is your name?" she smiled, pleased thus far that her attempts had succeeded.

"My name is Edgar Poe."

Excellent, his memory was indeed intact, he remembered.

"And you would be, Miss-?"

"You can call me Demona."

"Miss Demona, then, perhaps you will tell me something?"

"What do you wish to know?"

She quietly crept closer to where she'd seen him dart to, eyes sweeping back and forth trying to discern him from the dim lighting.

"What have you done to me?"

There he was, she could see the glow of his eyes, her own widening as she saw the color his eyes glowed. Black, a faint purplish halo making them discernible from the shadows much like a black light. He rose to his feet as she took a step closer, quite aware that the only thing he had on was a silver v-shaped belt around his narrow hips holding up a black loincloth. Hardly decent among female company even if the present female company only wore a sleeveless top that barely covered her bosom and a loincloth herself, her shoulders, legs, and abdomen left bare.

"I have given you your life back in a stronger body into a world where your intelligence would be better appreciated. Is this so bad?"

"Did you think it something I would have wanted?"

Demona let out a sigh, her wings wrapping around her slim shoulders, not understanding why he did not see this gift she had given him.

"Come, let's go someplace more comfortable so we can talk."

"I appreciate the invitation, but I must decline. Release me."

"I can't do that. This world is nothing like the one you remember, let me show you."

"No, thank you."

"You'll get lost, perhaps even hurt. Humans will never accept you as you are now, how could you expect them to when they barely accepted you then?"

Without warning, he made a dash for the direction he'd seen her come in from, surely there must be a door of some kind there, while Demona quickly gave chase, desperate not let him escape. He skidded to a stop seeing a wall in front of him but quickly spotted a rectangular area of metal with a seam down the middle; the door perhaps? For the second time that night, he put his claws to use as he wedged the tips between the seams and used all his strength to pry it open just enough for his slim form to slip through. Demona had been gaining on him until he slipped through and the doors slid shut, making her lose precious seconds to punch in the code on the panel beside the door and quickly darted after him once the doors had opened. He was just ahead of her still running on two legs; good, he had yet to realize that his new body was designed to allow him to run on all fours to increase his speed. For one as brilliant as he, he wasn't very quick, then again, while his body was very much gargoyle, his mind was still very human and humans were entirely bipedal. So Demona dropped to hands and feet to gain on him more quickly before he got much further, the clatter of her claws alerting him to her nearing presence. He glanced behind to see her running on all fours like some feral beast, quickly gaining on him, while in front of him was another door he'd found to be locked.

To his left was a solid wall, but to his right were a wall of windows that clearly led outside, the roof of a building barely close enough for a desperate escape. As she was near enough to pounce, he flung himself toward the windows, arms raised protectively in front of him as he smashed through, tumbling across the roof of the neighboring building. Sliding to a stop, she spared only a moment to look out of the broken window to see where he'd landed before opening her wings and gliding across. He raised himself up on hands and knees, wings opening to shake off the broken glass, shaking his head and glanced toward the building he'd escaped to see the female was still following. He quickly got to his feet and took off running across the roof until he came to the ledge, glancing down to the barely-visible alley below, then to another rooftop. A champion leaper, he backed up to get a running start and leapt across, landing deftly on the hard surface and began running again, struggling to figure out how to lose her. These buildings were much higher than anything he'd seen in his day and he had yet to find a safe way down to the street.

"EDDY?" a voice called out.

Skidding to a halt, the white gargoyle looked around for the speaker, unsure of where it had come from or who it could be that would've recognized him, frantic to find a friendly face to help him out this mess he'd found himself in.

"Edgar!" Demona called as she drew near.

Edgar looked to see her preparing to land until a blue-white blur tackled her, and sent her tumbling backward with who or whatever it was. The attacker rose to its feet as Demona shook off the daze the sudden assault had left her in, the form slim and lithe with such wiry shoulders it was impossible to say if it was male or female. Clearly another gargoyle, the pale, icy blue flesh stood out against the darkness, digits of the hands, feet, and wings tipped black as well as the tail and the spikes at the bend of the wings. The figure turned to look at Edgar, black hair blowing in the evening breeze, thick brows the same color curving over large ebony eyes and a familiar red scar extending from above the right brow to cheekbone. Even without the scar, he would have recognized the thin face, the pointed nose jutting out arrogantly, and the narrow jaw adorned by a black goatee, the scar merely confirmed the newcomer's identity.

"Clopin?" he got out, "How-?"

"Could ask you the same thing," the other male replied, "Oh, _merde_!"

He'd barely glanced back at Demona in time to see the claws swiping at him and had just managed to sidestep the swing, fury marked her face as her eyes flared red.

"Bastard!" she spat, "Don't interfere!"

"Stay away from him, Demona!" Clopin snapped back, eyes glowing white.

"He's mine!" she snarled.

"Doesn't look like he agrees," he calmly replied, casting a glance back at Edgar.

"You know nothing!"

"I know more than you think! I know _you_!"

With a snarl she launched herself at him, Edgar poised to interfere until another blur, this one small and green, tackled her.

"Demona!" a red, beaked creature called out as he joined the fray.

The three males, Clopin, the small green one, and the beaked red one, surrounded her, positioned between her and Edgar even as a few others appeared in the sky.

A glance between the three males and they took action: the two newcomers lunged for her as Clopin darted back to Edgar, grabbing his hand and pulling him along.

"Clopin! Are you mad?" Edgar snapped as they neared the ledge.

"C'mon, Eddie!" he replied, a grin on his face, "Just open your wings!"

And with that he leapt, not realizing that his companion couldn't glide, even as his own wings burst open to catch an air current to give him lift except that Edgar was still hanging onto his arm, the added weight making lift harder.

"Eddie, open your wings!" he encouraged.

Demona had broken free of the other two and was racing toward them, eyes still glowing and claws ready for the attack, and launched herself at Clopin.

"Give him back to me!" she cried, "He's mine!"

As she tackled Clopin in the air, he lost his grip on his friend and Edgar began falling, unsure of what to do to save himself. A pair of muscular arms wrapped themselves around him and suddenly he was drifting upwards as he glanced up into the lavender face of yet another, this one clearly a giant, and let out a startled yelp.

"Hold on!" the creature rumbled in a deep voice, "I have you!"

He glided back to the rooftop where the red and green ones waited, setting him down gently on his feet.

"Goliath! Look out!" the beaked one shouted, pointing behind the giant purple one.

He turned to see Demona lunging for him now, Clopin on a neighboring rooftop not moving, and he braced himself. The two smaller ones rushed to aid the one called Goliath, clearly their leader, as Demona struggled against him, her eyes locked on Edgar.

"Go!" Goliath shouted at the white male, "Now!"

"I can't-" Edgar got out.

"Eddie!" a familiar voice called.

He turned to see Clopin hovering in the air just off the ledge, his arms out and ready, "Jump!"

Edgar raced to the ledge and jumped just as Demona broke free from the males surrounding her and suddenly there was a sharp sting in his leg and almost immediately a light-headedness came over him. Clopin had barely had a grip on him when a dart struck him in the leg and was having difficulty holding onto his dead-weight. Luckily, Goliath was always fast to act and leapt off the ledge in time to catch Edgar as he slipped from Clopin's grip. Outnumbered and unable to get near anywhere near him, Demona turned and glided back to the skyscraper that housed Nightstone Unlimited, casting a last mournful glance at a now-unconscious Edgar with a tear in her eye. Goliath landed on the rooftop with Brooklyn and Lexington, Clopin close behind, as Hudson arrived on the scene.

"Is he all right, lad?" Hudson asked, gazing down at the strange white gargoyle cradled in Goliath's arms.

"Mm," Goliath rumbled in response, "He's unconscious."

"Thanks for the help," Clopin said, wiping some blood from his lip, "but I can take him from here."

"No," the clan's leader snapped, "He's one of our kind, he will come with us."

"He's an old friend of mine," the ice-blue one returned, "I know him, I understand him. I know how to handle him. He used to be human. Let me take him."

"Can you protect him? He was her target, Demona will try again. Can you protect him from her?"

"He wasn't her target, she was trying to get him back, he escaped from her! She did this to him!"

"Can you protect him from her?"

Clopin fell silent, hesitating, "No."

"We can."

"We've dealt with her before, lad," Hudson chimed in, "We know how she works. He will be safe with us, lad. And he'll need guidance, a clan to teach him. He's in good hands."

"You know where Xanatos is?" Goliath asked.

"Yes," Clopin replied.

A nod of the large head, "Then you know where to find him. You are welcome to visit."

Clopin simply nodded, knowing that somehow Eddie would adapt to their presence, that they could teach him about his new form and better protect him from Demona, keep him safer than Clopin could. It was for the best.


End file.
